


the outside looking in (or: the fantastic love and response to a categorized disaster)

by mattmurdockfoggynelson



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: (i'll add more tags as this thing goes along), (let me know if you'd like me to tag anything), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Casual Sex, M/M, Post-Season 2, general sadness, mattfoggy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-07-15 11:19:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7220272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattmurdockfoggynelson/pseuds/mattmurdockfoggynelson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A post-season 2 fic where Matt & Foggy become a 'just sex' relationship. They both hate it. </p><p>Includes sneaky PIs, work-related issues and breakfast fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the beginning of not really the end but something like that

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first time posting anything here on ao3. enjoy.

 

  "Ah, ah, _ah!_ " 

   Matt's toes curl as he comes, hands clenching the satin sheets. "Fuck, _Foggy!_ " 

   Foggy's hand fists in Matt's hair, tugging hard. Matt sucks in a sharp breath as Foggy's hips snap up to his pelvis, coming with a choked-off moan. They take only a moment or two after, then Matt rolls off of Foggy's cock, limbs splayed on Foggy's bed. They don't say anything; the silence grows thick and heavy between them.

   "So...how was that?" 

   Matt has to cringe at how awkward it sounds, like a teenage boy asking his crush how their first kiss was. "Yeah, it was...good. Just fine."

   " _Just_ fine?" Foggy asks, and there's that note of hurt in his voice, the same note that's been there since Nelson  & Murdock went their separate ways. 

   "No, no, I mean, it was _good_ , really," and Matt really isn't any better, tripping over his words like he's trying to tell his crush he forgot to use a breath mint before their kiss. 

   He listens to Foggy exhale slowly through his nose, frustrated. He presses the heels of his palms over his eyes.

   "Yeah, no, I get it," Foggy mumbles, tossing his sheets to the side. "You want some water?"

   "Please," Matt says, sitting up on his elbows. "Thanks."

   "Mm," Foggy waves over his shoulder nonchalantly. 

   Matt shifts to get comfortable, letting his head _thump_ against the headboard. The apartment is surprisingly quiet; he can't remember a time when he was over at Foggy's old place that they weren't talking and making jokes. Instead, Foggy's rummaging around in the large open kitchen, searching for glasses. 

   It'd been about two months since Nelson & Murdock broke up that they started this; Matt had come over to Foggy's new apartment, tried to strangle his way through an apology, angry tears turned into angry kissing and, well, things got complicated after that. He didn’t really want to think about it right now.

   And here Matt is, sitting in Foggy's lavish apartment, complete with large glass windows and sleek, modern furniture. He fiddles with the perfectly square lampshade on the nightstand. 

   "Got water," Foggy says bluntly, placing two champagne flutes of sparkling water on the nightstand. Matt pulls his hand from the lamp like a child caught playing with something he shouldn't.

   "Perrier?" he asks, taking a flute.

   "San Pellegrino," Foggy corrects him, taking a sip from his own glass. "I can finally afford something I want."

   Matt feels like Foggy's making a jab at him and their office, but decides not to push the issue. "How's work?"

   "Mm. Work is work," Foggy says around the rim of the glass. "Got some pretty crazy co-workers though. Like this one PI-"

   "Jessica Jones?" Matt asks, and he thinks his response was maybe too quick. 

   Foggy sets down his water. "You know her?"

   Matt purses his lips. "Yeah, we've been in contact."

   "Like, hooking up?"

   "Jesus, Foggy." Matt rubs at his temple. "No, god no. Professionally."

   "In the, uh, punching bad guys sense?"

   "No. We've worked a couple cases together at the DA's." He pauses as he takes a sip of his water. "But I don't think it's a bad idea. Maybe having some help wouldn't be the worst thing in the world-"

   "Be careful," Foggy says, and he's got an edge in his voice that Matt hasn't heard in a long time. "She's brutal, and she doesn't have your 'kumbaya' policy, and she _will_ fuck you up if you rub her the wrong way."

   Matt just sits there, eyes wide, taken aback by the strength of Foggy's words. "Foggy - "

   "I worry about you, Matt," and there it is, his resolve crumbling, his face breaking down into an expression of distress. "I know it might not look like it."

   He looks down into his glass, stares at the bubbles rising and floating to the fizzing surface. "I know we can't get back to where we were."

   Matt shifts, feeling a strange heat rise to his face. Something like anger; maybe embarrassment. He can't put his finger on it.

   "But I still think about you, Matt. A lot."

   Matt opens his mouth to speak, but a loud _brrring_ ing noise cuts off his reply.

   Foggy checks his phone. "Ugh. Lemme take this," Foggy says, and he rolls out of bed as he answers the call. "This is Nelson speaking."

   Matt knows he shouldn't be listening to the call. He does it anyways.

 _"Franklin, it's Hogarth."_ He always wondered what she sounded like. Sort of like if chocolate and death had a child.

   "Hey, what's up?" and no, no, his voice is too cheery, too kind to be stifled by the emotional trash compactor of an office that Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz is.

_"I need you to come in early tomorrow. Captain Stacy wants to talk about the Coleridge case. Be here at 7:30."_

   "Will do," Foggy says, and he hangs up the phone.

   He comes back into the room to find Matt already half-dressed, zipping up his pants.

   "Matt-"

   "I'll, I'll give you a call, alright?" Matt says as he pushes his shoes on.

   "Matt, can we talk-"

   "I'll give you a call," he repeats, stuffing his tie in his pocket. He slips his way past Foggy to the door. "Take care."

   "Matt, please-"

   But the door's already shut, and Foggy can hear Matt's footsteps fading down the hall.

 

 ...

 

   Matt flings himself onto his bed, feeling unusually out of breath. He covers his face with his hands, taking deep breaths. In, out. _It's fine, Matt._ In, out. _You're fine._

   This was the first time Foggy had said anything so honest, so _sincere_ to Matt in the past few months since...

   He shakes the thought from his brain. No, they'd reached some kind of a good agreement here. No more fighting. No more tears. Just fun. Just sex. 

   Matt felt his stomach lurch. This wasn't supposed to be how it happened. He knew Foggy liked him, day 1 he knew, but he'd been too much of a chicken shit to say anything about it. To say he felt the same. Something in him couldn't say the words.

   So he made excuses. Told himself that it would distract Foggy from his studies, just like Marci, like Elektra. Then he told himself that it would distract Foggy from his work at Landman & Zack. And from Nelson & Murdock. And from the Punisher case.

   And now he's here, alone in his apartment when he knows Foggy should be here with him, when if he'd just told him they'd be somewhere different instead of now, 10 years later, feeling miserable.

   He feels a hot tear pinch at the corner of his eye. He tries to wipe it away, but it seems to have the opposite effect. More tears spill out, down both sides of his face, and he can't do anything but just let it happen. He lays on his bed, and he cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this will be continued;;


	2. the part where foggy always wants to call matt a blasphemer because he can't stop saying sacrilege during sex (maybe we're getting to a better place)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song recommendation: [two weeks by grizzly bear](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sPXDJQkuWeA)

   Matt's at his new closet-sized office, address 530 West 166th Street, suite 600A. (He hates having to be driven all the way to Washington Heights just to get to his new 'job'.)

   He's shuffling through a big stack of papers when he hears his phone buzz. He pulls it from his pocket, listening to the surprisingly natural robotic voice read the text. 

_"From Foggy: My place tonight. 8:00 sound good?"_

   He worries his lip, thinking about last night. 

   He dictates his message: "Sounds good. See you then."

   He hears the _whoosh_ sound of his reply being sent, and he sinks into his chair. This should be interesting.

 

 ...

 

   Foggy must have been reading some things on the Internet, because Matt's pretty sure he's _never_ been blown like this before. And that's saying something.

   " _Fuck!_ " Matt's hands are on top of Foggy's head, but he lets Foggy control the speed and depth of his movements. "Yeah, Foggy, just like that..."

   He _feels_ Foggy moan around his cock, and his eyes roll back into his head. Matt's breath hitches as Foggy manages to get his dick all the way into the back of his throat. "Jesus!"

   Foggy pulls off, frustratingly slow, just to give Matt a dorky smirk. "Isn't that-"

   " _Don't,_ " Matt warns, but his tone is more playful than anything. "Don't start with this again."

   Foggy shrugs, smiling, giving Matt a few lazy pumps with his hand. "I'm just saying..."

   Matt can't help but feel the apples of his cheeks rise, can't help the laugh he tries to stop. "You're such a jerk- _ohhh._ "

   Foggy grins as Matt's laugh turns into a whine. "So sue me."

   "I will," Matt huffs. "I'm gonna take this to court, counselor," but it feels all wrong, not at all like how they used to joke about it, not how they used to call each other 'counselor' when they were Nelson & Murdock.

   It doesn't seem to bother Foggy, though; he just chuckles, and licks another stripe up the side of Matt's cock. "Ah, fuck, Foggy, please." 

   "You like that, Matty?" It's been forever since he's called Matt that. "You like it when I-"

   There's a loud noise that makes Matt nearly jump out of bed. Foggy gives something like a surprised squeak, turning over his shoulder. "I'll get that."

   It takes Matt a moment to realize the loud ringing was the doorbell, _Foggy's apartment has its own doorbell how much money does this man own,_ and quickly piles the sheets over himself as Foggy pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and goes to answer the door.

   Foggy squints through the peephole. "Shit," he says under his breath. 

   Matt struggles to find out who's on the other side of the door, but his senses instead decide to focus on the blood rushing to his ears and his boner. Sometimes his senses were like a petulant child he wished he knew how to control better. Still, he can tell it's the figure of a person in a skin-tight dress, tapping a high-heeled foot against the carpet of the hallway. That's all his dizzy mind can make out before Foggy opens the door-

   "Jeri!" Foggy says brightly, as if he were greeting an old friend, seriously, what is _wrong_ with this man.

   "Nelson," she replies, frost covering the word. "I have files for you."

   Matt makes an effort to sneak towards the shut bedroom door, pressing his ear against it to listen better. Not that he really needed to. Sometimes he just liked feeling sneaky.

   "No offense, but, uh, couldn't these wait until tomorrow?" Foggy asks, his cheeriness starting to fade. "I mean, I'm coming in early tomorrow anyway-"

   "These are urgent, Nelson. I need you to look at them tonight before you come in tomorrow so we can get a good start on them." She tries to step into the apartment, but Foggy quickly body-blocks her. 

   "So, yeah, I'll just, take these for you-"

   Jeri is very obviously disconcerted, but is quick to stamp it beneath her cool demeanor. "Alright. Read the files then get some rest. We'll need you early and punctual tomorrow. And please, try to be on time for once."

   Matt winces at that one. He'd never known Foggy to be a latecomer to their office; the only time he was late for appointments was usually the dentist's, or really anything he disliked going to. But Foggy said he liked his new job. Why would he-

   Matt picks up on Foggy's footsteps fast approaching the door, and he scrambles from the door and hops back into bed and piles the sheets over himself as if nothing had happened (which it didn't). Foggy opens the door with a _whumpf_ , dropping the files onto his nightstand. He sits on the edge of the bed, scrubbing his hands over his face.

   "What happened?" Matt asks, pulling the covers over his chest.

   "I gotta - Jeri gave me some files to work on." Matt hears Foggy make a huffing sound, blowing air past his lips. Matt can feel the excitement leaving his dick like helium leaving a balloon.

   Matt's quiet, listening to the sound of Foggy running his fingers through his hair. "I should go," he says, shuffling the sheets off. 

   "No, no," and Foggy sounds too frightened, too desperate, "you can stay. If, if you want to."

   Matt's hand pauses above the nightstand, hovering over his glasses. "Foggy..."

   "I'm sorry," Foggy quickly backpedals, waving his hands in a vague gesture. "I just - I thought there were some things we wanted to talk about and-"

   "Foggy." Matt feels his heart pounding. This was the part he was worried about. The part he'd been trying to avoid.

   He puts his hand firmly on Foggy's. "You should start the work on those files."

   "Oh." He sounds disappointed. Something more than that, maybe. "Yeah. No, you're right."

   Matt scooches under the blankets, resting an arm behind his head underneath the pillow. 

   "What - what are you doing," Foggy asks, watching Matt get comfortable.

   He takes a deep breath. He's sure his voice shakes as he speaks. "I'm staying."

   He can almost _taste_ the relief from Foggy, who exhales a breath it seems like he didn't know he was holding.

   "Oh," he says again, but it's much different this time. "Okay."

   He pulls the files from the nightstand. He doesn't move from the bed, but lays out the files neatly on the sheets, sitting next to Matt.

   The last thing Matt remembers before he falls asleep is the feeling of Foggy's hand brushing over his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the kudos & kind comments. if you're new to this fic, hello and please feel free to drop me a line if you like it.


	3. the part where the summary says 'breakfast fun' (he smiles like the sun streaming through the window)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize this update comes so late and is so small, however i figured i would at least post at least a little something so you know i'm still writing this and that this will still be updated. here is an educational video that i've made [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fe8m08xA4rE) that will hopefully have made the wait a little better (please adjust volume accordingly). 
> 
> song recommendation: [what you know by two door cinema club](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MDw_2NaCI6A)

   Matt wakes his sleepy face, expecting Foggy to still be stroking his hair, expecting him to still be working on his files. Instead, his hands find their way onto Foggy's body, curled up next to his. His hair's pulled back into something resembling a messy bun, the way it is when he's hard at work and needs the hair out of his face. He must have fallen asleep before taking it out. 

   Matt tries his best to wiggle his way free, gently uncurling his arms from Foggy; when did that happen? He realizes he also has a leg slung over Foggy's hip, so he works himself free from their tangled-up limbs. 

   He's almost completely untangled when his elbow bumps into the small of Foggy's back, making him stir. 

   "Mm...Madd...?" he hears Foggy mumble, rubbing his eyes and turning over.

   "Shh, sh, sh," Matt rubs Foggy's side, "go back to sleep, Fog."

   "Mmb. 'kay."

   Matt quietly slips out from under the sheets, the silk duvet sliding against his bare skin. He stretches a little, pulling his arms taut above him. 

   "Nice view," he hears from behind him, and Foggy's turned over, laying out his arm in the spot where Matt was, still only half-awake. 

   Matt turns his head over his shoulder, putting his palm over one asscheek. "Pervert," he says fondly. 

   "Ffm. You headin' out?"

   "What - oh shit, what time is it?"

   Foggy leans over to his bedside clock. "6:00."

   Fuck. Matt had meant to only stay until later in the evening, then get back to his apartment and get his Daredevil armor on, then think about bashing some heads to get more info on Coleridge (what a pain in the neck he'd been - and he's never even met the guy). He clenches and unclenches his fists; shit. He's lost a whole night's worth of work now. Who knows how much has changed since last night, or where the guy might've even gone. Shit. But now it's 6:00 a.m., and Matt's not at work until 8:30.

   "I'm hungry." Matt hesitates. "You want breakfast?"

   

 ...

 

   Matt would usually never allow himself to stay this long. But something...he didn't know how to explain it, something just seemed like it was happening. Like the way bones heal when they're broken. Ugh. Overthinking always turned into weird metaphors for Matt's brain.

   "Hey there, astronaut," Foggy says as he puts down a plate of pancakes in front of Matt, "what's got your mind in outer space?"

   "Hmm?" Matt realizes how lost in thought he must look. "Oh, uh, nothing. Just trying to wake up."

   Foggy sits next to him at the long, pristine white kitchen island (probably made of marble or something, or whatever people with a Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz salary could buy). "Come on, Matt. We've known each other for how many years? I know when you've got something on your mind." Matt tries not to let himself think too much about what Foggy says. _We've known each other for how many years, but somehow this is how it ended up?_

   He shakes a can of whipped cream, piling some on to his pancakes. Matt takes a moment to notice that he's baked chocolate chips into them. "So spill."

   "I..." He tilts his head down, picking at the pancakes on his plate with his fork. "I don't know. Work stuff, I guess."

   "Ahh," Foggy pretends to give an understanding nod as he pours a generous amount of whipped cream onto Matt's pancakes, finishing off the rest of the can on his own plate. "How's the DA's treating you, anyways?"

   Matt sighs, cutting into his breakfast. "Fine. Really, I'm just a paper-pusher there. Nothing exciting."

   Foggy gnaws his lip. "They don't have you doing trials?"

   "Nope," Matt says, "mostly just filing."

   Foggy sucks in a surprised breath. "Yikes. Is it-"

   "I don't want to talk about it," and Matt gets suddenly shy, not meaning to sound so forceful. "Sorry. I just - maybe we can talk about something else. Like your work at HC&B."

   "Yeah, it's, it's..." Foggy plays with the whipped cream on his pancakes with his butter knife. "It's good. They're good." He takes a bite of his food. "What else is new with you?"

   Suddenly the conversation feels too intimate, and Matt's considering his options as to which exit is the closest. "Yeah, uh, not much," even though the real answer is that everything is new, everything different now that he's essentially on his own, no Karen, no Claire, no Foggy. Not how it used to be.

   "Mm. Same." Foggy bobs his head in agreement. 

   They eat more of their breakfast in silence. Matt scratches his nose with the back of his hand.

   "Ffmpf." Foggy's face is scrunched up like he's trying not to laugh.

   "What?" Matt says; he honestly has no clue where this is coming from.

   "Your - you got something," Foggy babbles through quiet giggles, "something right there, lemme - "

   Foggy touches the tip of Matt's nose, and Matt realizes he's got whipped cream all over it.

   "How did you miss that, buddy?" Foggy laughs, grabbing a cloth napkin from the table. "Here, lemme get that - "

   Matt quickly snatches a dollop of cream from his own plate, smearing it over Foggy's cheek. Matt laughs at Foggy's reaction. 

   "Now we match," Matt says, and he's really smiling. It catches him off-guard, but his brain's too busy being happy for him to worry about it too much right now.

   "Hmhm," Foggy chuckles, scooping up more whipped cream. Matt pretends to dodge the attack, but ends up with a long stripe across his forehead. He gets a quick one in, a dab of it at the ridge of Foggy's right eyebrow, and Foggy comes back with a line that extends from Matt's cheek to the side of his lips. They start to wind down, laughing, and Matt licks up the cream at the corner of his mouth. 

   He hears Foggy's exhale, a little heavier than usual. Matt tilts his head. "Are you..."

   Foggy leans in, slowly, ever-so-slightly brushing the back of his hand over Matt's jawline. "Matt."

   "Foggy," Matt parrots back in the same tone; unsure. He reaches up his hand to cover Foggy's, pressing his palm into his cheek.

   The whole world feels like it shifts as they both close the distance between them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again for reading and thank you for being patient with me as i upload new chapters so very very slowly. thank you


	4. the part where the summary says 'sneaky PIs' (we aren't always mistakes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, if my last update was late, then this chapter comes as a boat everybody had thought was sunk at sea and everybody's families already had funerals and then suddenly the boat pulls into the harbor and they find that everyone on the boat was living off of seawater and catching their own fish in a little boat society and mostly everybody's fine except for the one person who got eaten. 
> 
> song recommendation: [academia by sia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E0fmUC7URWU)

Their lips part with a sort of wet sound, and Matt feels confused. Confused about what just happened; he has to check to make sure his brain didn't just make it up. But no, Foggy's sitting there, eyes half-closed, sunlight hitting his lashes.

"Foggy," Matt says again. It's more cautious, though. More scared.

"Hey," Foggy says, and Matt can tell it was supposed to be said jokingly. It comes out soft and quiet instead.

"We-" Matt starts, but can't find a way to finish his thought. "I should have-"

"No, no, I should, should have been-"

They both trail off their jumbled sentences. Matt can hear Foggy's heartbeat, his breath. He's wondering if he should do it again. So is Matt.

"I-" and Matt hears his phone vibrating on the bedside table. "Uh, let me get that."

He makes his way to the bedroom, grabs his phone, and his VoiceOver reads _"8:00"._

"Shit," he says, quickly picking his clothes up from the floor. "I have to go."

"Matt-"

"I'm sorry, Foggy," Matt says as he snatches up his dress shirt, poking his arms through the sleeves. "I'll call, or I'll text-"

"Matt, please-"

"Foggy, I'm not - I have to go to  _work_ _-_ "

"Matt!" Foggy's loud and abrupt voice stops Matt in his tracks. "Your driver doesn't know you're here. And you still have whipped cream on your face."

Oh. Matt had totally forgotten to call his driver last night. The DA's office had offered to provide Matt with a personal driver to take him to work from his apartment (which consisted of Bob, his next-door office neighbor, picking up Matt in his 2003 Toyota Yaris, eating powdered doughnuts and punching the DA's office's address into his Garmin - why didn't he have that address memorized by now? And who uses a Garmin?). He'd initially declined the offer, but the office had said that they 'wanted to help their handicapped workers in any way possible'. Like he couldn't find the fucking subway.

"Bob, hi," Matt says as he scratches the back of his neck, his phone pressed against his ear by his shoulder. "I am so sorry, I should have called sooner - yes, I know, I-"

He glances over to Foggy. "I stayed at a friend's last night."

Foggy pokes around what's left of the pancakes on his plate. Matt presses his phone to his ear as he slips his belt back through its loops.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Let me give you the address..."

Foggy feels like it's going to be a long day.

"He'll be here in 10," Matt says, sticking his toes into his shoes, pressing down into their heels, "I'm gonna go wait outside."

Foggy catches his elbow just before he gets outside the door. "Matty."

There's that familiar twinge in his chest. "Yeah?"

He wipes a thumb over Matt's cheek. "Still had some cream left."

"Oh." He puts his fingers up to where Foggy's thumb was. "Thanks."

There's nothing else said after Matt grabs his cane from the corner, tapping his way to the curb.

 

...

 

"You look like shit."

"Thanks for noticing." He's sure the dark bags have already set in.

"More information. Looks like he's fucking the bank owner."

"Dammit." He's massaging circles into his temple. She sets a file on his desk.

"Seems like a hopeless case," she remarks, pulling a flask from her jacket. "Want some?"

"Jesus, Jessica, it's 10 in the morning," he says, making a face. She shakes it a little, and Matt hesitantly grabs the flask from her, downing a swig.

"Not so bad, is it?" Jessica asks dryly, taking a drink.

"Terrible," Matt coughs.

"Yeah, just like your case," she says, nudging the file towards him. "Every single piece of evidence I have is against him. Why'd you even take this case, anyway?"

"Not my case," he says, "I just put everything together."

She takes another sip. "They don't have you doing trials?"

" _No,_ " he says, maybe a little too sharply. "Not yet."

"Wow." She looks him over. "What else is going on?"

"What?"

She leans against a wall. "Something else is going on. Right?"

"I don't know-"

"Is it Nelson?"

Matt splutters on air. "Why would you - "

"I know he's working for my boss. Or, my other boss," she gestures around Matt's office, "if you consider temporary DA work to be a job."

Matt winces.

"Whoops. Anyway, my sneaky PI senses are tingling. Your office dissolved less than three months ago, and neither of you talk about each other. Guessing it wasn't a very happy parting."

Matt tilts his jaw up. "And?"

"And you come into work looking like somebody just killed your dog. My guess would be that they're related."

"And if you're wrong?"

Jessica leans over his desk. "Tell me that I'm wrong, Murdock."

Matt stays silent.

"That's what I thought. So what about him bothers you so much? You left on bad terms?"

"It's none of your business."

"Oh, so you're sleeping together."

"For God's sake, Jessica, can I _please_ get some work done?" He keeps being too thorny, too avoiding; he knows it probably isn't making him look any better.

Jessica puts her hands up. "Alright. It's super obvious, though. Just saying."

"Out." He's not in the mood to have his sex life scrutinized. Especially when it's 10 in the morning and he's already consumed alcohol at work. Not his best moment.

"Ok, alright," she says, "but next time you see him, you both have some shit to sort out. Nelson can barely make it through a day without almost falling asleep and compulsively stealing all of our bagels."

"Fine.  _Out_ _._ "

"Take care, Murdock." She shuts the door behind her.

He takes his glasses off, rubs at his eyes. Christ. He wonders whether or not he should tell Foggy he saw her. Probably not. Better not to rock the boat; he's pretty damn close to falling off anyway.

_Vvt_ _._ It's his phone. He almost drops it getting it out of his pocket.  
  
_"From Foggy: Thanks for this morning. My place at 8 again?"_

   Fuck. He doesn't reply, but makes a mental note to call a cab again tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're new to this fic, welcome and i hope you've enjoyed it so far;
> 
> for those of you returning, welcome back and i hope you've enjoyed this update
> 
>  
> 
> thank you for reading;;


	5. the part where feelings happen a little more (rising and falling)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's mostly just sex.
> 
> song recommendation: [who is in your heart now by studio killers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uA36tQuJ1II)

   Matt whines a little, breathing quick, heavy breaths. One of his knees is pressed tight against his chest, the other draped over Foggy's left shoulder. His palm covers the top of Foggy's head and  _oh_ _,_ his tongue over his hole feels  _so_ good. His fingers weave through Foggy's hair that Matt can feel every strand of. Foggy takes it slow, one long lick, then fast, fast, wiggling his tongue in just a little, then back to slow.

" _Foggy,_ " he almost complains, pushing his ass closer to Foggy's face.

"What's wrong, babe?" Foggy asks and _woof,_ it makes Matt dizzy.

'Please, for the love of God, put your tongue inside of me, you fucking tease,' Matt wants to say, but all he manages is "in."

"You want it in you?" Foggy says, sounding so breathless and _fuck,_ Matt's never heard anything hotter.

He nods, on the verge of hysteria, "please."

Foggy pats his hip gently, "you wanna turn over?"

Matt nods again and shuffles his way onto his stomach, pressing his cheek into the pillow and raising his ass in the air, resting his weight on his forearms.

"You good?"

" _Foggy._ "

Matt gets a slap on his asscheek. "Are you good?"

"Ah! Yes!" Matt all but shouts, lifting his ass higher. "Please!"

"Gonna write myself a memo for the spanking thing," Foggy jokes, "we can revisit that sometime."

Matt gives something resembling a laugh, but it quickly morphs into a groan as Foggy puts his tongue back on Matt's asshole.

"You like that?" Foggy asks, spreading Matt's cheeks apart, licking in quick flicks across the rim of his hole.

" _In,_ " Matt says again, this time a little more enthusiastically, a little more forcefully.

Foggy just laughs and shakes his head, but he dips down anyway and starts putting his tongue in and holy _shit_ _,_ Matt's brain is completely empty other than what he registers as the feeling of Foggy eating him out.

"Fuck, fuck,  _Foggy!_ _"_ and Matt can only grab the pillow with both hands and hang on for his life.

He takes deep, gasping breaths, his cock twitching in rhythm with Foggy's tongue.

It happens far quicker than he'd like, but as soon as Foggy reaches a hand between Matt's legs to touch his dick, he feels the hot, burning-behind-his-eyes sensation as he comes. _Goddammit._

"...Oh." Foggy pulls away, sounding a little disappointed.

"Sorry," Matt chokes, sitting up slowly, cracking his back.

They sit awkwardly in silence for a little while. "You know, for all of the times in college where you'd brag about - "

"Don't start," he snaps. "Just...do you want to come or not?"

"Come - oh," Foggy says, seeming a little off-put by Matt's mood, but he nods anyway. "Yeah. Sure."

They shift around so Foggy's leaning back against the headboard and Matt's flat on his stomach to the side of him, and Matt takes his cock in his hand.

It's only after he puts his mouth on him that Foggy asks, "What's wrong?"

"Whapf?" Matt asks through Foggy's dick, tilting his head up.

"Jesus, Matt, don't talk with your mouth full," Foggy says, and he grins when it gets a small laugh out of Matt. "Something's up."

Matt's smile quickly fades as he pulls off. "I'm fine."

"Matt," he says softly, brushing away a few strands of hair covering Matt's eyes. "Please."

Matt chews on his lip.  _Not the time. _

"Can we pick this up later?"

"Matty." His fingertips against his temple make him feel so damn vulnerable. Fuck.

"I just - " He tries to quell the stinging in his eyes. "I can't do this anymore."

Foggy pulls his hand away like he's been burned. "Oh, I - "

"No, not - not this, it's - " and he tries to steady his shaking hands, resting them on Foggy's thigh. "This is really ruining the mood, isn't it?"

Foggy doesn't laugh, or smile, but instead tugs on Matt's elbow until he sits upright next to him.

Foggy fiddles with the edge of his duvet. "So, uh...we should probably talk."

There it is again. Matt closes his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose. "Yeah."

More silence. "Or we could just sleep."

Matt exhales palpable tension at Foggy's suggestion. He knows it's certainly not the right way to deal with all of this, but childish instinct takes over and all he wants is to be in Foggy's arms for the night. "That sounds good."

They both shuffle under the sheets. Foggy stares up at the ceiling.

"You must be exhausted," Matt says.

"Mm."

"Oh, you didn't - you didn't come."

"Later, buddy," he says. "C'mere."

Foggy pulls him closer to his side, snaking an arm underneath him. Matt curls up against his chest.

"Promise me something," Foggy says, not breaking from his upward gaze.

"Hm?"

"Promise me that we'll talk about this," he says, chest rising and falling in steady breaths. He turns his head to Matt. "I can't do this anymore either."

   Matt's not sure what to say.

He pauses, then presses a short kiss to his forehead. "Night, Matt."

Matt soaks up the sensation, being left with the feeling of his lips and the idea of reconciliation. "Night, Foggy."

 

...

 

Matt stirs, and feels something cast over his face - like sunlight, but much dimmer, much softer. He realizes it's a moonbeam coming through the window and he half-smiles into the corner of the pillow.

He hears the rustling of sheets next to him. "What?" Foggy asks in a light tone.

"Nothing," Matt murmurs, "go back to sleep."

"Mmn," Foggy scrunches up his nose with a  _ snff _ , turning onto his stomach, draping an arm over Matt. "What're you smiling about?"

Matt thinks about it. "I guess I just like this."

"Like what?"

"This," he says, nudging his shoulder against Foggy's arm. "Thought I was still dreaming when I woke up."

"Dreams coming true," Foggy yawns, wiggling his way closer to Matt.

"Yeah," Matt breathes. "Go to bed, Fog."

"Ok'y," he slurs. "Sleepy tiiime."

"Mm, sleepy time. Night buddy."

"Night babe."

He doesn't have long to think about that word, _babe,_ doesn't get to think about its repercussions before he falls asleep with Foggy rubbing small circles into his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise; feelings.
> 
>  
> 
> thanks again for being so patient with me as i update so, so slowly; you're all awesome.
> 
> we're getting into the home stretch now; the next chapter will probably be the last. if not, then the chapter after that will definitely be the last. 
> 
> thanks for tuning in.
> 
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> 
>  
> 
> edit: i just noticed that the song is 4:20 minutes long, that's fucking hilarious


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